And Still He Stood
by tere moto the sentry
Summary: Dib makes the ultimate sacrifice for Gaz, and now Gaz will never see her brother, or life, the same way again.
1. In His Shoes

**Author's Note**: Well, this is the first chapter of my first multiple chapter IZ fic. This fanfic will end with four chapters. Enjoy. Please be patient for the other three chapters.

**Disclaimer**: Invader Zim and everything related belongs to Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon Studios.

And Still He Stood

(Gaz's point of view)

Chapter 1: In His Shoes

I never really meant to be a cruel person. While I accept responsibility for my own actions, I never meant any permanent damage to anyone. It was all a façade, my comfort zone; the reason I wanted to be feared was I didn't want to fear anything. I was tired of being paranoid. Yes, my brother has always been known as the paranoid one, but I was paranoid in the way that I was afraid to trust, while Dib was suspicious of everything, never taking anything at face value. Taking nothing at face value is good in most cases, but he was always thinking that every fleeting figure, every shadow, every hallucination was some kind of ghost or alien or Bigfoot or something. See, after our mom died years ago and our dad turned to his scientific studies nearly twenty four-seven, my brother and I had had different ways of dealing with it. I would stay inside all day playing videogames and eating junk food, and Dib grew interested in something called the "paranormal". He loved studying ghosts, aliens, Bigfoot, and those sorts of things._ I_ thought it was all nonsense, but I was proven wrong about the aliens part.

The thing is, one day there was this new kid in school. He had this green skin and no ears or nose that were visible, but still seemed to be able to hear and smell just fine. He called himself Zim. Dib jumped on the opportunity to prove once and for all that aliens were real and he wasn't crazy for believing in them. But he failed each time, partially because most people he knew had a one-track mind. Zim told everyone he just had a skin condition, and everyone at school was mad at my brother since they believed he was being insensitive. But both Dib and I have seen Zim without his disguise on before, and so I stand corrected.

Anyway, after our family fell apart at the seams, I was afraid that since I had lost Mom, and had, in a way, nearly lost Dad, something might happen that would make me lose my brother, too, especially since Dib was always sneaking around Zim's house spying on him and had had many close calls, since Zim planned to enslave all humans and tended to use violence whenever he felt it was needed. So, in order to attempt to emotionally detach myself from Dib so I wouldn't have to go through all the pain of losing a loved one again if anything happened to him, I started to pretend, and tried to make myself believe, that I didn't care about him at all. It became easy after a long while, and I was able to fool myself, but Dib had always had a knack for looking beyond the obvious. Besides, he had known the real me before.

After a long time of living like this, though, I began to waver back to my earlier way of thinking. I started putting myself in Dib's shoes, just like I had always been able to do, and I grew worried that I was "letting my guard down". I suppose the first instance in which I noticed myself reverting back to my old tendency of compassion took place after a particularly awful "incident" between my brother and me. So I guess I'll start there.

I was leaning over the bathtub one afternoon. Dib and I had just gotten home from school, and I was preparing to take my vengeance on something he had done to me on the way home. Something extremely minor, but I would exaggerate it when he annoyed me the slightest bit and would deal with it using the most horrible of "punishment".

I filled the tub up with almost scalding hot water, monitoring it until the amount was to my liking. I turned the water off and dipped one finger cautiously into it. It began to hurt, and I pulled my finger out and smiled. Perfect. Time for the last thing I needed. I strode out the door of the bathroom and to the living room.

Dib was sitting content on the couch as he watched his favorite show. "Mysterious Mysteries" it was called. I hated the fact that I could remember the name of it, but he'd had it on so many times before, and I couldn't forget the title even when I tried. I approached the sofa, grabbed my brother by the arm, and harshly yanked him off to the bathroom without even doing him the courtesy of providing an explanation for my inconsiderate behavior. I threw open the bathroom door and shoved him in, following behind and locking the two of us in. Dib, who had been knocked to the floor, got to his feet and gave me a confused look. But I wasn't going to explain it to him just yet. The reason why I was doing what I was about to do was as we had been walking home in the rain, Dib had splashed me with a puddle on the sidewalk. Not a mud puddle, not even a puddle lying next to mud. Just a plain water puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. I had been acting especially sour that day, and Dib was clearly trying to liven me up a bit, for he laughed right after he had done it and invited me to join in.

"C'mon, Gaz, splash me back!" he grinned from ear to ear. I only growled in a low tone, deciding he'd pay when we got home.

Now it was time. Now_ I_ was the one grinning from ear to ear. Dib sensed danger was imminent, and locked into defense mode, taking a step backward and lifting his arms in preparation to protect himself. Before he could make any move in his own defense, however, I grabbed him by his trenchcoat collar and turned him around to face the bathtub. He noticed the steam rising from the water, and the fact that the mirror above the sink was fogging up. As I took hold of his shoulders, I felt them tighten.

"Gaz…?" Dib asked, "You're _not_ gonna…you won't, will you?"

I didn't answer. Instead I pushed him along by the shoulders until we reached the tub. I ignored the demand of "Let me go!" and forced him to his knees beside the bathtub. I got to my own knees as well, but right on top of him. Making sure I didn't leave his arms free, I leaned his top half over the side of the tub, his face just hovering over the water. Then, savoring the moment with a sick sense of satisfaction, I reached out and plunged Dib's head into the nearly scalding water. He jerked and struggled, but I maintained a firm restraint on him. I then grabbed hold of the lock of hair that was shaped like a scythe blade and pulled his head back up. Luckily for Dib, he had anticipated me enough to close his eyes and mouth tightly before he went under, but since his arms were pinned under him, the rest of his face wasn't so lucky. He shook water off of his head and turned his head around to face me with some difficulty, since I still had a grip on his hair near the scalp.

"Gaz, what _are_ you doing?!"

"_You know I don't like being splashed_!" I screamed in his ear.

"I-I'm _sorry_!" he apologized, "I was just trying to-"

"_I know what you were trying to do_!" I submerged his head again and yanked it back up by the hair. Dib was fast; I had to give him that. He'd known when to close his eyes and mouth again.

"Stop trying to make me happy, Dib!" I yelled, "I just want you to _leave me alone!_ When are you going to realize that?!"

"Gaz, I-" He cut off, seeing that I was about to dunk his head again. He took his previous precautions, and his eyes and mouth were shut yet again when I forced his head under for a final time and held it there for a moment. Then I brought it back up and got off of him, letting go of his hair to pull him up by the shoulders. I turned him around and jerked him towards me to emphasize what I had to say next.

"Don't ever let it happen again," I hissed at him. He gritted his teeth tiredly and angrily. For a moment I just stood there, then I shoved him backwards into the tub. I walked towards the door and unlocked and opened it, and then I turned back and did the only humane thing I had for Dib in weeks. I made sure that he came up before I left, and hadn't hit his head and passed out.

I saw his head and shoulders rise above the water. I couldn't believe I was glad he had avoided getting the water in his mouth and eyes again, but this strange feeling coursed through my chest when I saw his eyes. He gave me this pained and frustrated look, and his eyes asked a simple question that had haunted me for years: "_Why?_"

I suddenly felt like telling him I was sorry, but for some reason I shook the feeling off.

"Remember, Dib, the water can be hotter next time," was what I said instead. And as Dib lifted himself out of the tub, I decided I didn't want to think about this anymore, so I left the bathroom. It was getting towards dinnertime.

I entered the kitchen and went to examine the fridge for what Dad had left for dinner.

"Hello, kids!" a man's voice said from behind me. I turned to see the usual video screen hanging from a mechanical arm that extended from the ceiling. Professor Membrane, Dib's and my father, flickered into view on the monitor.

"There's tomato soup in the fridge if one of you could heat that up on the stove for the two of you," he instructed, "the cook time is on the can. I hope you both had a good day at school."

I didn't answer. I was more or less in a listless daze as I fished the can out of the refrigerator and opened it. I halfheartedly heated it on the stove and then divided it into two bowls. I didn't feel like going to the stairs to call up to Dib's room which was where I had seen him go as he finished drying off.

"_Dib!_" I shouted, "_Dinner's ready!_"

When he didn't answer, I yelled louder.

"_Dib!_ You four-eyed dimwit, _get down here!_"

Finally, Dib's footsteps came down the stairs, and he appeared in the kitchen doorway. I nodded to his bowl, and he walked over to the counter and took it, though his eyes never left me. I fidgeted. There was a redness around his eyes that didn't seem to have come from the bathtub incident. Had he been…crying? I quickly redirected my attention to my soup and carried it into the dining room with Dib following me.

"I hope you both had a good day at school," the video screen said again, obviously on a film loop. I gritted my teeth, not only at the fact that Dad didn't take time away to at least talk to us live over the video screen, but also at the fact that he didn't really care whether we had a good day at school or not. I set my bowl down on the dining room table and sat down.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked as if Dib were pouting for no obvious reason.

Dib set his spoon down and gave me an agitated look. "I don't need to answer that," he said simply.

"_I asked you a question, Dib,_" I said, opening one eye a little more than usual, "_so I expect an_ _answer._"

Dib narrowed his eyes. "Gaz, what happened to you? You used to be a lot more considerate…"-his gaze dropped downwards-"and kind and…we were best friends…"

I hated it when he brought up the subject.

"I changed," I said, but I looked away from him, "and I don't regret it."

There was a painful silence between us. Then from behind, it came again.

"I hope you had a good day at school," the video screen said for the third time, and it was all I could do not to break it.

Things were quiet that evening. I spent practically all of it on my bed playing my Gameslave 2. There was nothing I loved to do more in the world, except for eating junk food. I played it so much, in fact, that I normally kept my eyes squinted out of habit from looking at the screen so long. Finally, I finished slaying the entire evil army of virtual pigs on the sixth level, saved the game, and turned it off. Kicking back, I looked out my window at the city beyond. Next door, a boy was claiming to his mother he was on a sleep hiatus. I smiled, but only on the inside, since I had almost forgotten how to do it on the outside. I looked over at my clock and, realizing it was late and I hadn't heard Dib moving around in his room, I decided to see if he was asleep.

I crept out of my room and into his. I never allowed him to enter my room, but always thought nothing of walking into his. The lights were turned off, and I had to open my eyes wider to see Dib lying in bed and apparently sleeping. I quietly moved to the side of the bed and only watched him for a moment. He was still dressed, and had only removed his shoes. Seeing his glasses were still on his face, I slowly reached for them, not sure why I wanted to help out, and lifted them off. I held the spectacles for a moment, and as if they were dangerous or something, I quickly set them on the nightstand and wrung my hands out. I started for the door, but stopped when I heard Dib whispering.

"Gaz…"

"What?" I whispered back, still facing the door.

"Gaz…Gaz?"

"What?" I turned to face him and realized he hadn't sat up, and his eyes were still closed. He was talking in his sleep.

"Gaz…don't go…"

_Don't go?_ Why was he…?

I shook it off as just a dream he was having and left for my own bed. But though I tried to fill my mind with only pleasant thoughts of high graphic video games, I couldn't completely forget what I heard my brother saying in his sleep. I didn't like it when he got me confused like this. I tried to forget the whole thing, but Dib was calling out for me in his sleep over and over again until I managed to get to sleep.

**Author's Note**: Well, I didn't realize I was going to finish this chapter already. I love reviews, but no flaming ones. Just praise, and constructive criticism if you find anything that can be improved upon, please.


	2. All for You

**Author's Note: **Well, here ya go. Chapter 2. Enjoy. My fans have wanted me to update soon, so I hope this makes y'all happy.

**Disclaimer:** Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon Studios own everything related to "Invader Zim".

Chapter 2: All for You

The next day came around slowly, and that morning was just as dreary as the rest of the day would be. I got up, got ready, and grabbed the breakfast cereal, trying desperately not to think about the afternoon and night before. I was done with my cereal when Dib came downstairs and poured his own breakfast. I stared at him as he ate, wanting to say something but at the same time wanting to remain cold and ignoring. Finally, he finished, and we both put our bowls in the sink.

"You walking to school today?" I asked him. He nodded, staring silently at the ground.

"_What's your deal?_" I suddenly raised my voice, "what's your latest plan to catch Zim? Huh? Why are you acting so down?"

He looked up at me, frustrated.

"Because, Gaz, when one's own sister burns them with hot water, it usually bothers them."

"You don't usually act like this when I do something like that," I knew it was a terrible answer, but I only bit my lip.

"_Maybe I'm sick of it, Gaz!_" he shouted, "and I think I have a right to be angry about this!"

"_Don't you yell at me!_"

"I think someone needs to yell at you!" Dib countered, "you've been so unfeeling, alwaystaking out your problems on someone else when I'd be glad to talk it out with you-where's my _real_ sister anyway?!"

"_She got sick of her brother!_" I yelled.

"What did I do to make you treat me like this?" he asked. His voice had dropped a bit, and it was an honest question.

I didn't want to answer. Instead I gritted my teeth in rage, then balled my hand into a fist and punched him in the side of the face. Dib fell, his glasses knocked lopsided, and hit the floor. He sat there staring up me, his own teeth gritted and several tears racing down his face. Though part of me wanted to reach down and help him up, to apologize, I didn't. I turned and headed for the door, grabbing my backpack on the way. I then looked back at my brother, who was still on the floor, his shoulders shaking with furious and defeated tears.

"Get up and stop whining," I said, "It's time for school."

The skool seemed a little more monotonous than usual that day. I couldn't find an obvious reason why, though. It was a crisp October day, and the janitors had recently finished the annual chore of cleaning out the restroom toilets. One thought kept returning to me, though, a possible reason I wasn't feeling myself, and I couldn't forget it. Was I really feeling…_sorry_ for Dib?

My thoughts were interrupted when something ran into me as I was walking down the hall. I looked to see that Dib had bumped into me hard and was glaring behind him as he rubbed the shoulder opposite of the one that had collided with me.

"Do you mind?" I spat.

"Sorry, Gaz," he said, still looking behind him, "Torque punched me for no reason."

"Well, I'd rather not get involved in your personal problems, okay?" I said, though I knew he had been forced into me.

Dib didn't answer. I looked back and saw Torque Smacky was laughing his head off and beaming in pride at the physical offense he had put upon my brother. I knew I shouldn't add more insult to injury, but since I was afraid I was beginning to think of Dib as a person, I began cackling out loud.

Dib shot a look at me, hurt and agitated again.

"Why do you have to be like this?" he demanded.

"Don't give me that look, Dib," I said gravely, abruptly ceasing my laughter.

"Oh, so you can do whatever you want to me, and I can't give you an angry look?"

"Should I punch your lights out?"

Dib was clearly tired of fighting. The bell rang, and he stormed off to Ms. Bitters' class. I watched him for a bit, then shrugged and headed off to Mr. Eliot's class.

Nothing much happened until lunch time. I trudged into the cafeteria with my lunch bag and scanned the room for Dib. He was sitting at the same table he always was. I approached the table and sat down beside him. He was slumped over his food, picking at the meatloaf without even attempting to spy on or even giving a glance to Zim at the next table. I pulled out a sandwich from my bag and my Gameslave 2 from my pocket, taking a bite and starting Level 10.

"Get over yourself," I said coldly to Dib when I grew tired of him being silent. I was used to him rambling on about his latest scheme to stop Zim from world conquest, "don't you have any plans against Zim to rattle off to me?"

"Gaz, why can't you just get off my back? And since when do you care about Zim being stopped anyway?"

"I don't know. Maybe he _will_ end up as some kind of threat. And you're the only one I know who's stupid enough to go after him alone." Though I knew he had no one else to go with him.

Dib seemed to take this as a compliment. "You're right," He rose from the table, "I can't give up on you, my sister, or the rest of the world. _Planet Earth!_" he shouted as a battle cry, and raising a fist in the air, charged off to Zim's table to warn him he would never take over the world and all that.

I looked down at the table. His lunch tray was still there with the food gone, and I could tell he wasn't coming back. I shrugged, grabbed the tray, and took it over to the trashcan to dump it for him.

The last bell rang that afternoon before I expected. I walked outside with my backpack, planning on walking home rather than taking the bus. I just felt like taking in the autumn air, though that sounded to me like a strange thing for _me_ to want. But just as I walked down the steps, I suddenly felt someone throw their arms over my shoulders.

"Thank you, Gaz!" Dib exclaimed. I turned my head to face him.

"For what?"

"You have renewed my confidence," he said, sliding his arms down to the sides of my shoulders and hugging me tighter, "and now nothing will stop me! Zim will fail!"

"Dib, if your arms don't come off of my shoulders, they're coming off of yours," I said simply.

But he didn't listen. He seemed to think perhaps I was joking or something, and nothing could shatter his spirits now.

"I…love you, Gaz," he told me.

Something deep within me enjoyed him saying it, but I gritted my teeth.

"That's stupid," I responded.

"Oh, come on, Gaz," his arms dropped and he turned me towards him, "you made me happy, and now there's got to be a way to do the same for you."

"Don't even try it."

"Why don't you want to be happy?" he asked.

I couldn't answer. I just stared at him.

"I'm…going home, Dib," I finally said, and turned to leave.

"Well, while we're doing that," he walked off with me, "I do have another plan. You still wanna hear another of my plans?"

I shrugged.

"Well, Zim's got a new 'doom machine', and…" he went on, but I didn't listen. I tried to ignore him, but I couldn't completely. He really thought I was his friend now. I decided I couldn't let him think that. I decided I had to let him know that I hadn't gone "soft". And I knew the perfect way to do that. My weapon of choice was three simple words. Three simple words that hurt like poison; that would finally shatter Dib's spirits.

"I hate you," I said to him.

Dib stopped. I looked back at him, and he just returned my glance. I looked more closely and saw that heart-wrenching look was back in his eyes, the one I couldn't stand. Something deep within me stung. Dib _had_ been shattered by this, all over. I couldn't take it, so I forced my eyes away.

"Gaz?" he asked finally.

"What?"

"Why do you…?"

"Because, Dib," I squeezed my eyes shut, "you're annoying, I'm not the only one who's changed, and I just-I just hate you, so don't bother me!"

I knew I didn't really hate him, no; I actually still wanted to be friends. And I didn't know why, but I let that darker side of myself take over. I could've been nicer, I could've told my brother that I really did love him too; I _did_ love him too, but I didn't tell him.

"Gaz, if there's something really bothering you," Dib said, " I mean there's got to be, because I know you wouldn't normally act like how you've been for the last seven years, Gaz, please talk to me. We can help each other…"

"_No! Stop it! Go away!_"

I looked back at him. His eyes were starting to get wet.

"Dib, don't embarrass me by crying! Argh!" I turned away. But that wasn't really the reason I didn't want him to cry. It was because if I saw him crying…_I'd_ cry, too. And that would bring down every wall, every blockade I had set up to protect myself from pain.

"Gaz, please just listen. I can help you, and you can help me."

I felt I had to get him to stop. I pulled out my Gameslave 2, turned it on, and whirled around to show Dib that I was playing it, that I had tuned him out, like everyone else had. Dib fell silent.

I tried to focus on my video game the rest of the way home. But I couldn't shake off the new feelings I'd found.

'_Just don't listen,_' I told myself, '_tune it out. Since when did he mean anything to you, anyway?_'

But he had _always_ meant something to me…

'_Forget him…_' my darker side said, but something within said, '_you can't forget him._'

I was so caught up in it all that I didn't notice I was stepping off a curb. Walking unknowingly out onto a busy street. I was only paying attention to my thoughts until I heard the rumbling of many large tires coming towards me.

Dib's voice rang out, yelling, "_Gaz!_"

I snapped out of my 'trance' and shot a glance to my right. I didn't have enough time to get away. But just then something slammed into me, knocked me away from the semi truck racing towards me.

I hurtled to the ground a few feet away. Alarmed, I sprang to my feet and looked around. The street was silent now, the semi had passed. It had all happened in a flash. I glanced to the side and saw my Gameslave 2, knocked against the opposite curb and smashed into pieces. But for the first time in years, I didn't care. I was worried about where Dib was. After scanning to make sure no more vehicles were coming, I looked around frantically for my brother. Soon I spotted a crumpled, mostly black shape on the ground where the semi had gone by…

_No._

I ran over to the figure and knelt beside.

"D-Dib?"

I looked closer. It _was_ him…lying motionless…

'No,' I thought, standing up, 'these kinds of things aren't supposed to happen to me. I'm in control of my life…complete control…'

I was breathing heavily, trembling, shocked. I reached down and felt Dib's chest.

_No pulse._

Dib had pushed me out of the way…

I felt dizzy. Knowing that it was not best to move him, just in case I was wrong about his condition, but knowing I couldn't have us in a busy street, either, I picked my limp brother up and carried him to the sidewalk. Setting him down, I saw a shadow being cast over him. I looked up. A boy in a red uniform with green skin was standing there, looking speechless at Dib. His eyes traveled up to meet mine.

"Zim…" I said.

He nodded. "I saw it."

I began to pick Dib up again, and Zim walked over and shared the load. We hauled him the rest of the way to my house, and I felt like crying, but I held in the tears for whatever reason.

But I knew Zim saw one or two slip out of my eyes.

**Author's Note:** Well, the long awaited second chapter. Hope you liked it. I finally revealed the "ultimate sacrifice" the summary talks about. I appreciate and love reviews a lot. No flames, please. I prefer constructive criticism if you can find any.


	3. Aftermath

Author's Note: Sorry you had to wait so long for this chapter. Well, here it is!

Disclaimer: Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon Studios own all the stuff related to "Invader Zim".

Chapter 3: Aftermath

Zim and I arrived at my house in silence, neither of us knowing what to say. Finally, when we set Dib's body down inside, Zim spoke up.

"So, uh, you…want me to stay with you or something?"

I shook my head.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine."

"_Be fine?_" Zim echoed, "I know how you humans are when you lose one of your kind that you care about. I…don't think I'm fine, actually."

"_You?_" I turned to him, "but you always wanted him dead, didn't you?"

"I did," he answered, staring down at the lifeless Dib, "but he wasn't…just an enemy."

"What was he then?" I asked intently.

"Well," the alien looked up at me, "the Tallest, my leaders, never really understood me. And the Dib-human…he saw me as…more than they did."

Zim smiled. I gave him an understanding look.

"I was…much bigger in his eyes," he said.

I had heard of the "Tallest" before and that on Zim's planet, height was everything. But I don't think that's

what Zim was talking about.

I didn't really want to do anything the rest of the day. I sat around, tried to watch T.V., knowing I'd have to call Dad sooner or later, but not thinking I'd be able to bear it.

I looked back at my still brother lying on the living room floor. I watched him a couple of times, thinking and hoping he might wake up, turn over and look at me, but it didn't happen.

"Dib," I told him, "you didn't have to…"

_Why had he?_ I didn't understand. I had been such a jerk to him; I had even been treating him worse than usual lately. But he still was attached to me in some way, never gave up on me. _And now this…_

I swallowed hard and got up from the couch. For a moment I just stood and breathed deeply, my eyes shut tightly. I was ready to call Dad. I shuffled past Dib on the floor and off to the phone. A sliver of the afternoon sun lit the receiver slightly as I shakily picked it up and dialed Dad's lab's number. The dial tone made me anxious, and I tried to take my mind off of it by staring out the window, at the colorful autumn leaves riding the wind through the cul-de-sac. Just yesterday that had seemed so peaceful. Now nothing felt right.

"Membrane Empire Labs," someone said, "may I help you?"

"Can I speak to Professor Membrane, please?" I asked, "I'm his daughter, and this is urgent."

"Please hold on," the receptionist responded. I fidgeted as I waited for the call to be transferred. Staring out the window didn't seem to help at the moment, so I closed my eyes. But that brought visions, haunting images of a semi truck with headlights glaring brightly, a vehicle about to crush me unsuspectingly, but two hands forcing me out of the way, an unforeseen sacrifice that happened all in one instant…so much courage and glory in one moment, something hard for me to comprehend…

I snapped my eyes open just in time as Dad answered the transfer.

"Daughter?" he asked, "What's your emergency?"

I felt a huge lump in my throat.

"It's…hard to explain…"

"Well, Gaz, is it bad enough that I need to come home?"

"Yes, Dad, it is," I took in a deep breath in preparation, "You see, Dib and I were walking home from school, and…well…something terrible happened."

"Are you both alright?" I heard a deep concern in his voice I was a bit surprised to hear.

"No, Dad, not both of us," I told him, "we were crossing the street…and there was a semi truck…I was playing my Gameslave 2…and…and…Dib…"

"_What is it, honey?_" Dad said in a panicked voice.

"Dib-pushed me out of the way…and…he…got hit…Dib is…_dead_."

Dad was silent. The only sounds I heard were my heavy breathing and the receiver tapping at my head as I tried to hold it in my shaking hands. Finally, I heard something from the other end. A small clank told me that Dad had set the receiver down, but hadn't hung up. I had a sudden fear that Dad would just leave the phone there and go back to work, pretending nothing was wrong, like he had done when Mom died. I was afraid now he would be in strict denial about Dib, too. But a rush of hope began to act when I heard what Dad called in the background to his assistant:

"Simmons, I'm going home."

I waited more anxiously than I ever had before for Dad to get home. I tried everything I could to keep myself sane: watching T.V., getting a snack, taking a nap, or just pacing the floor, and after what unfairly seemed to me like days, but by the clock was only twenty minutes, Dad knocked swiftly on the door. I flew over and opened it, and to my utter surprise, Dad seemed to now have a very stern and angry expression, which didn't at all match the tone of voice I had heard over the phone. Before I could speak, he said, in a reprimanding voice, the last thing I expected him to say:

"Daughter, you're grounded."

Needless to say, I was taken aback.

"W-What? But-what about-_what do you mean?_"

"Gaz, you should know better," he crossed his arms.

"_It wasn't my fault!_" I said as tears poured forth, "Dad, you can't blame it on me!"

"Oh, so it wasn't your fault that you called me to play this sick joke on me?" my father bent down until he was at eye level with me, "I was in _a panic_, Daughter, a panic like none I had ever experienced. Now just confess that you were clowning around, let me see that your brother is safe, and I'll be going back to work."

I was shocked. He _was_ in denial.

"No, Dad," I said shakily, "it's…it's not a joke…"

"Where is my son?" Dad said firmly, as if I hadn't spoken.

"He's dead, Dad…he got killed."

"_Where is my son?_"

Too choked up for words, I pointed a shaking finger towards the living room. Dad nodded and strode off to see Dib. He stopped as if remembering something, and looked back at me.

"Come along, Gaz," he told me, "you'd best go in there with me and apologize to both your brother and me."

"Dad," I said pleadingly, "do I look like I'm joking?"

He stood there for a moment with a blank stare.

"You _are_ joking. Dib is perfectly fine, you _have to_ be joking, and that's the end of it."

He turned on his heel and continued towards the living room, motioning me after him. I was too agonized to move. Dad disappeared around the corner, and I managed to stumble after him a bit and peer into the living room.

The man walked right to where Dib's unmoving form lay, bent down, and placed a hand on the boy.

"Son, what's wrong?" he asked, and moved him slightly and glanced at his face. Dad froze.

"Dib…W-what-n-no…oh, no, no," Dad mumbled, struggling to get up, "He can't be-no…Son, please, please no…you can't be…No. No. _No!_" He screamed and swung a fist at a nearby wall. I clutched myself and dropped to my knees, focusing on Dad's image as the room began to spin. He returned my look with a piercing stare, as if begging me to say that this wasn't happening.

"Gaz, what do we do? I can't do anything for him," he admitted, "exoskeletons won't work for this, so how…what…?"

I couldn't answer.

"_I can't take this again!_" he yelled in frustration, "I couldn't take it when your mother died, and _I can't lose my son, too!_"

"I…don't know what to do, either…" I said weakly.

Dad walked over to where I was huddled up on the floor, dropped to his own knees, and wrapped his arms around me. I grasped his torso, and we held each other for the rest of the afternoon, sobbing softly.

The next day was windy, with all too frequent chills that whipped out of nowhere and taunted people to go home and crawl back in bed. I had considered this inviting option as my agenda for at least half of the day, but in order to distract myself from the shock of the previous afternoon, I had chosen instead to go to school. Maybe there I could forget for a little…

I had been sent with a lunch of a bologna sandwich, some crackers, and a thermos of Poop cola, but I wasn't too eager to eat it at lunchtime. I mainly sat in the cafeteria with my head propped up on my hands, staring at my sandwich. I looked up occasionally, hoping to see Dib sitting next to me, boasting about having discovered a new weakness of Zim's and how he would exploit it for the good of humanity. I had always found it amusing in a way, since I never considered Zim a threat.

"What's wrong with that Gaz girl?" someone said. I listened in.

"I don't know. Ask her," a second voice responded.

"I don't want to talk to her. She's weird," the first kid said in disgust.

I turned to look out of curiosity. Several kids at a nearby table were staring at me, and a few occasionally made apathetic gestures.

"I think she heard us," the second kid said, and pretended to occupy himself with his cole slaw.

"Someone ask her what's wrong," the first one urged, her eyes darting to the others.

The others were quiet for a moment, and then one of them got up and approached me.

"Hey, what's with you?" he asked.

"Uh…I-" I couldn't find the words.

"Hey, where's your brother?" the first kid who spoke called to me, "doesn't he sit with you because he's a misfit, too?"

I could only stare at her despondently.

"What's _wrong_?" the boy standing in front of me pressed impatiently.

"Does it have to do with Dib?" the second kid who had spoken asked.

I nodded. "Something…happened to him...yesterday…"

The cafeteria promptly fell silent as the majority of the kids looked up. Then, before I could blink, dozens of them were tripping over each other-and tripping each other-to gather around me.

"What happened?" one asked eagerly.

"Did he get hurt?"

"Is he sick with some previously undiscovered disease?"

"Did he transfer to another school?"

"Did he get kidnapped?"

Many were exchanging quick glances, but rather than concerned looks, they were giving each other _hopeful smiles_. I sat, greatly appalled, until someone shouted out, "Well, _what happened?_"

I soon grew enraged. "He _died!_ Yesterday he got hit by a semi truck while _saving me!_ _Now go away!_"

Everyone stared quietly, and, denying my request to be alone, remained still.

"I think she told you all to go away," someone nearby asserted. But the crowd refused to disperse, and merely ignored Zim. I looked over at him. He was standing next to me, with eyes reflecting agitation at the assembly.

"Zim, I…don't need…" but I soon surrendered my headstrong nature for the moment. Hoping they'd comply with him, I waited in wrought angst for the next thing to happen. But what did happen startled me. All at once, uproar began, not of anger or mourning, but of _cheering_.

"He's _gone_?!" someone yelped in excitement.

"_Dead?_"

"_Out of our lives?_"

"We don't have to hear him rambling about his damn crazy stuff anymore?"

The gathering erupted into laughter. I couldn't stand it…

"_Stop!_" I yelled, "What are you all _doing?_ He gave his _life_ for me. He's a hero. Now _shut up!_"

The assembly fell silent, looking on in confusion. Then one spoke up.

"Didn't _you_ always feel like we do about him?"

_It stung. _A deep, overwhelming sting inside me…no…no…had I felt like_ that_ towards him? Had I treated him like _that?_ I had done _more_ than that, though, _more_…

I felt sick, so I set off to the office to get permission to go home.

My house was dimly lit, but in sort of a tranquil way. I entered and headed straight for the kitchen, hearing Dad moving about in it.

"Dad?" I said upon entrance.

"Hey, honey," he turned to me, "I figured you might want to come home. I made some Supertoast and hot chocolate. You want any?" He showed me a slice of his culinary invention, Supertoast, and a piping hot mug of cocoa.

"No, thanks," I answered, "I think I'm going to go to bed."

I dragged my feet down the hall, and opened a bedroom door. But not my own bedroom. Surrounded by posters of aliens, newspaper clippings, and the glow of blue, the favorite color of the room's late occupant, I crawled into a bed opposite the room's door and soon went to sleep, hoping tomorrow would be better.

Author's Note: Sorry I took so long to update this story. I tend to be lazy about these sorts of things. Don't worry; things will look up for Gaz and Professor Membrane in the fourth chapter. Praise and constructive criticism appreciated.


	4. Welcome to the World

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long. I was working on other fics and stuff. Okay, it was mostly slacking off. My apologies that it's been about two years.

Chapter 4: Welcome to the World

Smog. A smothering cloud of nauseating pollution restrained me with unforgiving pressure.

That's all I remember from the restless hours of that night that were spent in the most fitful sleep of my life. When it all finally subsided, I felt like I was surfacing from a deep, placid ocean. When my still twitching eyelids opened, I squinted at the prison that I had, only two days ago, called my world. A new day had begun. Nothing had changed. I got up slowly out of my brother's bed and trudged to the closet in my own room to get dressed.

A less intense sun fell through the windows as I ventured into the kitchen for breakfast. After halfheartedly composing a bowl of stale cereal and milk due to expire in the next five days, I took it to the table where I suddenly noticed Dad and another man, who wore an old pair of overalls and a stained plaid shirt. The two men were sipping coffee nervously.

"Hello, honey," Dad motioned me over to a chair. He turned to the other man. "This is my daughter, Gaz."

I sat down with my cereal and eyed the other man, having never seen him before but making a heart-sinking prediction.

"Daughter, this is the driver of the sem—" Dad paused. "Well, you know."

I nodded.

"I'm so sorry, kid," the large man in overalls was in tears. "I didn't…mean to…"

I nodded again, glancing at my cereal and realizing I no longer had an appetite. The truck driver took the hint and saw himself out as Dad reached towards me.

"Gaz…I…" When he found himself at a loss for words, we just sat there in silence. I whimpered a little and buried my face in his chest.

"He was…a...really…good kid," Dad said understandingly, and ran a hand across my back.

"_I_…_shouldn't_…_have_…" I couldn't finish, feeling the hot tears streaming out.

"It's not your fault, sweetie," he said softly, hugging me closer, but my stomach turned and I felt lightheaded.

"It's notthat_,_" I said in a squeaky whisper, "_I shouldn't…have…treated…him…like_

_that._"

Dad lifted my face towards him. "Like what?" he asked, very confused.

I stared into his eyes for a long time, heart pounding…hands shaking…shoulders heaving…Dad stared back at me, and I thought I heard faint words like "Daughter, are you alright?", but his voice was distant, as if I was far away from him while still sitting on his lap. His words were drowned out by a stabbing, intrusive voice searing through my mind.

'_It's time, Gaz…it's far past time…'_

_It's time?_ Time…to…I shuddered at the thought...I swallowed with my raw throat and cradled my ice-cold hands…

For years I had panicked at the striking idea that I might one day have to…_confess_. It was my worst nightmare, the kind of fear that occasionally woke me up in the night sweating. Though I worried about it less and less as time went by, it had still haunted me whenever Dad took a second glance at his kids, thinking he'd heard Dib sobbing, but all I had to do was put an arm around my brother, and Dad, satisfied that there was nothing to worry about, would leave. Then my nightmare would end, and Dib's would begin again.

"Dad, I…" I swallowed. "There's something I should have told you years ago."

"Gaz," my dad said very softly and gently, "you did nothing wrong."

"Dad," I said very shakily, "you don't know the half of it."

"The half of…_what?_"

I took a deep, audible breath and wondered where to start.

"Remember those…well…those red marks…on Dib's face and neck?"

Dad nodded very slowly.

"_I_ did that to him."

"I'm sure you didn't mean to, honey," Dad placed a hand on my shoulder. "Accidents happen."

"No." An icy chill raced up my spine. "No. I meant to do that. I forced him into hot water, almost scalding, in the bathtub. And it was because he was trying to do something nice for me. To cheer me up."

Dad was frozen in place and silent. I wanted to leave it at that, but something urged me to continue. This _had_ to be said.

"And when Dib's leg was broken in three places when he was ten—"

"That was because he was using his telescope on the roof and fell off," Dad interrupted me soothingly.

"I pushed him."

My father said nothing. My gaze fell to my fidgeting hands, not understanding how I had the courage to admit anything more…

"And the black eyes and the bruises and the scrapes he had that one night five weeks after Mom died…"

"No…" Dad said in a barely audible whisper.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "And when he had to go to the hospital for that dislocated shoulder and it was swelled up for days…"

I heard a faint sound escape Dad's lips, but he was obviously struck speechless. I opened my eyes and looked back up at him.

"Half of the injuries Dib has ever had…"

My dad only stared at me for a moment, and then imprinted three words in my mind forever.

"I trusted you."

Noon took its own sweet time arriving that day. While Dad occupied himself in various tasks such as canceling appointments that had been scheduled for the next couple of weeks and settling his son's affairs, I assigned myself to exploring my brother's possessions, in hopes I would, in some way, begin to feel closer to him. I went through countless solar system maps, cryptozoological field guides, and scale models of spaceships-and those were only the contents of his _shelves_. What he had accumulated in his file cabinets was a staggering amount of portfolios, data charts, photographs, scientific samples for examination, copies of correspondence letters with the Infected Eardrum Network or whatever that stupid club of his was called, newspaper clippings, scrawled notes from his studies of Zim, and many other categories which would surely take me months to fully explore.

I closed the drawers, pressed my lips tightly together and took a good, long look at the cabinet. Where to begin?

Finally, I held my arm in the air towards the file cabinet, shaking it rapidly up and down before stopping in front of some random drawer, labeled "WXY". I pulled it open and was met with a few hundred folders about werewolves, wyverns, x-ray goggles, and the Yeti, just to name a few subjects. I sighed and took hold of the first folder my hand gravitated towards—only to find it was stuck. I was never one to shrug such a thing off and leave it be, so I tugged a little harder. It refused to budge, which drove me to recklessly yank it with both hands, uncaring whether or not I harmed any files; I just wanted it out. With all my strength I fought with it for all of two minutes before it gave in. I flew backwards from the force and dropped to the ground. I looked and saw that I had clung to the released folder, but its contents had escaped my grasp. I glared in annoyance at the many documents littering the floor; but the one nearest to where I had fallen-a photo with a scribbled caption attached via paper clip—caused my expression to lighten to curiosity. Picking it up, I stared on in great interest, not necessarily at the odd subject, but at the professional focus and clarity of the snapshot. The image depicted a shaggy, bipedal canine, large arms lashing out towards the camera, and it was incredibly easy to see all of the dirt and twigs clinging to the matted fur, the infernal ferocity emanating from its eyes, and nearly each of the dagger-like teeth. My eyes widened. Even the most skeptical of zoologists would be rendered speechless. Personally, I had never believed in werewolves, but this photo had changed my mind in an instant. I soon realized—despite Dib's obvious foolishness in having ventured close enough to the rogue monster to photograph it in action—I admired the quality photograph. I had never truly…_admired_ anything he'd done.

But…why hadn't he shown this to anyone? If he had intended to, I would have been the first to know. He had always come to me with plans first—apparently spouting them off to me gave him some boost in confidence. I ridiculed him, I repelled him, but I was the only one ever around.

I was slightly startled by a knock on Dib's door.

"…Dad…?"

The addressed stepped in.

"Gaz, I want—" he stopped short upon seeing the mess of papers and folders I had made on the floor.

"Dad, have you seen this stuff?" I asked.

He picked up the nearest paper and began to read aloud.

"Wyverns—two-legged dragons usually pictured in medieval coats-of-arms, but I'm entirely certain I saw one in my backyard…" Dad dropped the file and sighed. "My poor, insa—"

"He _wasn't_ insane, Dad!" I surprised myself by exclaiming.

My father sighed. "Oh, Gaz, you don't _really_—?"

I held up the werewolf picture. "Look!"

Dad took the photo from me, studying it intently. "_What…?_"

"A werewolf, Dad," I smiled, "Dib was never crazy."

"But all those other bizarre things he said," Dad looked at me baffled. "They can't _all_ be true."

"Who knows?"

"I mean, he said some _very_ off-the-wall things," he took on his science-professor voice, "Dib swore up and down that his foreign classmate was a _space alien_."

I looked him deeply in the eye. "Dad…Zim _is_ a space alien."

A gloved hand, still holding the photo, raised to my father's forehead and began to smooth through his single lock of hair. "Come now, Daughter…"

"No, really Dad, it's true. I can show you sometime. He has a very simple disguise."

Dad glanced back at the cryptid photograph. "Okay, so if I just give you the benefit of the doubt, why has he never shown _this_ to me?" He waved the photo in indication.

"Everyone either thought he was crazy or didn't care. Must have gotten to him, I guess."

Dad said nothing for a moment, just tilted his head downwards. He finally breathed audibly and looked back up at me.

"Daughter, I…I came in here to give you something," he lifted the hand that wasn't holding the photo. In it was a small, folded black shape. "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go to Bloaty's in a minute, to cheer both of us up."

I took the object. It was of sleek cloth. I bit my lip and looked back up at my dad, who seemed to wink behind his goggles.

"It's supposed to start raining soon."

I half-smiled, unfolded the trench coat, and put it on.

"I'm sure he wants you to have it," Dad placed his fists on his hips in that classic proud pose of his.

It was only then I remembered: I had given the coat to Dib years ago. It was a beautiful Christmas, probably my happiest one. Dib, at the age of eight, had been so thrilled to open that gift box to reveal the jacket of his dreams. And I had gotten Dad's help in stitching a message into it that told my brother how much he meant to me. I now lifted my arm to peer into the left sleeve. There it was, in royal blue thread—

_I'll always shelter you from the rain._

I smiled as I recalled the doctor saying not too long after that Christmas that Dib wouldn't get his growth spurt for a while, so that jacket should fit a couple more years. And now, four years later, it still did.

I turned my gaze down to my own prized possession. My necklace. A skull on a gray ribbon. That same Christmas, I, going on the age of seven, had happily unwrapped the jewelry of my dreams. I now turned the pendant over to see the small message engraved on the back—

_I'll always love you for what's deep inside._

Dib had certainly kept his promise—and gone so much further than that—so why hadn't I kept mine?

As I hugged the jacket tighter around me, I suddenly was stricken with the oddest sensation. I felt as if something much warmer than the trench coat was wrapped around me.

A voice whispered in my mind. "_Now I can always shelter _you_ from the rain._"

I smiled. Brushing away a tear, I looked back up at Dad.

"Let's go."

As we left the house, I looked back over my shoulder. "Thank you. Thank you for everything, Brother."

It had started raining, but for whatever reason, neither Dad nor I had felt like taking the car. So we walked down the sidewalk, sharing his umbrella. We talked, we laughed, we reflected.

"Remember when Dib and I were really little, and Mom made Dib an alien-shaped birthday cake, and he thought a real alien was attacking her?"

"Oh, how could I ever forget! He flew to his mother's rescue. That's my boy. Oh, and do you remember when you were a baby, and often you couldn't fall asleep without your brother?"

"Uh, no, Dad, I don't remember when I was a baby."

"Oh. Well you would cry and throw a fit until we brought Dib in to talk to you. Of course, he was still a baby, too, so it was just babble, but it soothed you and you'd be out like a light in no time."

"He did that?"

"Many times."

I glanced away to notice that the rain had subsided. Noticing as well, Dad closed the umbrella. My eyes happened to fall on the sidewalk, where the shower had left several large puddles.

I grinned and did something I never thought I'd do. Stepping ahead of Dad, I plunged into the nearest one, soaking him.

"C'mon, Dad!" I laughed, "Splash me back!"

Author's Note: Hope you liked it. I'm sorry again for taking so long.


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